Abamsky

He’s the cursed King of the Night.
She’s the last omega prophesied to break him.

Selene has been hiding her scent, her power, and her past. But the moment Valerian—the cold, dangerously seductive Night King—catches her scent, the hunt begins.

He claims her with one bite.
She burns him with one touch.

Bound by fate. Torn by secrets. Their desire is forbidden… but irresistible. And in the dark palace of the damned, passion could save them—or unleash hell itself.

Fated to Night king

Here it is, guys. The final chapter of Fated to the Night King.

We've walked through prophecy, fire, and blood—through betrayals, resurrections, and the shivering breath of fate. And now, it's time.

Chapter 100 – The Flame That Remains

The Hollowed Queen had crumbled into dust carried by memory itself, and with her fall, the Veil sealed. The skies no longer bled. The winds no longer whispered in tongues. And the dead had returned to their slumber.

But it was not empty. It was sacred.

Valerian stood at the edge of the world, where the last spire of the ruined Abyss Crown fortress touched the clouds. He looked down on a realm reborn. Forests were already blooming where fire had scorched. The stars returned like scattered pearls across black velvet.

And behind him, Selis approached barefoot, glowing with warmth no longer borrowed from fate but born from within.

She held out her hand, fingers scarred from the blade that had undone a goddess.

He kissed her palm. "Is it done, then?"

Selis nodded. "The final thread has been woven. The curse... is broken."

She placed his hand over her belly.

Their child—unmarked by curse or hunger—fluttered beneath her skin like a whispered future.

Valerian's knees buckled, and he pressed his forehead to her stomach. "I've died a thousand times for the wrong kingdom," he said, voice raw. "But I'll live for this one. For you. For them."

She knelt beside him. "We name her Flame," Selis said, voice steady. "So she will never forget what she was born from."

Valerian smiled through tears. "Then let the world remember. That in all the ashes—a flame remained."

They lived in the highlands, far from the broken thrones.

No crowns. No subjects. Only sunrises, fireflies, and the sound of their daughter's laughter as she took her first steps barefoot on soft moss.

The world was still wounded—but healing.

Sometimes villagers wandered up the hills with dreams too heavy to carry. And Selis would whisper their names back to them—names long forgotten. Valerian would build their homes with bare hands. They never called him king. He never asked them to.

And one night, beneath a sky full of stars that had finally stopped falling, Selis looked at him with that light in her eyes.

"What will you tell her, when she asks who we are?"

He wrapped an arm around her waist, their daughter asleep between them.

"I'll tell her," he said softly, "we were forged by fate. Saved by fire. And found each other in the dark."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "And then?"

"And then we lived," he whispered, voice breaking.

A Romance Fantasy Mystery Thriller

The END